A bottle of Tequila
by BEM96
Summary: Missing scenes from First Contact
1. Chapter 1

"It's a primitive culture. I'm just trying to blend in!" Deanna's speech slurred just slightly as she tossed her hair back over her shoulder in an oddly slow exaggerated motion, and sank into a nearby chair. Good thing too. Her balance left a little something to be desired.

He'd never, in all the years he'd known her, seen her like this. She was three sheets to the wind, and somehow blissfully unaware of it. Part of him wanted to laugh at her. He knew it was wrong. She was only trying to do her job. But the combination of fatigue and flippantness was positively entertaining, or maybe it would have been in different circumstances. "You're blended alright," he muttered.

"I already told him our cover story. He didn't believe me!" she insisted.

Will Riker glanced around the bar at the low life losers that were strung out amongst the tables and then back to the bumbling drunk meandering around the room. This was the great Zephram Cockeran? _Of course, _he thought to himself. It had seemed like it was going to be such a good week, just a few days before. Then came the message about the Borg, and now, he was sitting in a bar, hundreds of years before he would even be born, trying to make sure that the world, as he knew it, stayed in tact. And who did he have for help? A drunken letch and his best friend, who sat next to him, completely soused. It was time to get down to business here. "We are running out of time. Now If we tell him the truth, do you think he'll be able to handle it?"

"If you're looking for my professional opinion, as ship's counselor… He's nuts!" Deanna told him, as if it didn't much matter to her, either way.

Will let out an exhausted sigh. "I'll be sure to note that in my log."

The music started up again, so loud that any hope of talking was immediately drowned away. Zephram Cockoran was dancing around like a buffoon and all of Will's childhood illusions were being dashed at his feet, and then to add to his growing list of problems, he heard Deanna's head hit the table. He glanced back to her and found passed out on the hard surface, her lips smashed up by the table's surface. He sunk his head into his hand. It had seemed like it was going to be such a good week.


	2. Chapter 2

Will Riker had a team of engineers, fourteen of them, scurrying around the missile compound, containing a radiation leak and trying to identify the damage to the Phoenix. It was a ship that every single member of the team had studied at Star Fleet Academy, and yet, seeing it in person, and before its first flight was an experience none of them ever could have imagined. And it was more complicated than they thought it would be. Some of the specs on the ship weren't matching the historical accounts. What they needed was the ship's designer's help. Too bad he was drinking whiskey straight from the bottle, dancing with himself in the middle of a bar.

Will looked back at Deanna, her head plastered to the table. What was he going to do with her? He needed to talk to Dr. Cockeran. He needed to sit him down, sober him up and like it or not, he was going to have to come clean. Somehow, watching him kiss the bottle in his hand as if it were a woman made Will doubt how well he'd take the news that he was about to become a leader in the next age of the earth's evolution. He couldn't talk to him about it there, in the bar, but he also realized as he looked around at the drunken stupor of the crowd spread out around them, that he couldn't leave Deanna there alone either.

Will tipped his head back and sighed. The Enterprise wasn't communicating. He couldn't let himself think too much about it. He had his own problem and it was a man named Zephram Cockeran. He had to fly the Phoenix, and he had to do it in less than 24 hours.

Will stood up and stepped a few steps away from his passed out companion. "Dr. Cockeran," he began.

The man simply ignored him.

"Dr. Cockeran!" he called louder over the blaring music.

Zephram Cockeran leaned against the bar and looked over his shoulder to where Will Riker stood. "What?" he snarled.

"Sir, I have to talk to you and it's very important, but I need to take my friend someplace, first."

"I'm not 'Sir' to nobody," Cockeran slurred, then took another shot. "You should just… you should… you…" he motioned vainly with one hand for Will to go away. He other hand clung tightly to his bottle of whiskey.

Will decided to give up on pleasantries. "Just stay here, okay?" he called to his childhood hero, irritated.

"No place else to go," he muttered as he took another shot.

"Fine," Will mumbled to himself as he turned back to Deanna. "Dea," he called shaking her lightly. "Deanna?"

"Ummmhh," she groaned as he jostled her.

"Deanna? Come on," he said trying to tug her back onto her feet.

She swatted at him lightly, without opening her eyes or lifting her head.

"Come on, Deanna," he grumbled. "Help me out a little bit here." He pulled on her shoulders again. "Deanna!" Nothing. "Deanna!" he screamed at the top of his lungs and her head popped up.

She looked around them alarmed. "Come on," he urged, before he lost her again. This time she let him help her to her feet and he guided her out of the bar.

"Where am I?" she whispered, confused.

"'When am I' might be a better question," he answered as he put a protective arm around her.

"I don't feel so good," she mumbled.

"That's a shock."

"My head hurts," she said, reaching up to the bump that was forming on her forehead from her impact with the table.

"I would imagine that'll get worse before it gets better," he told her as he half supported her, half dragged her back in the direction of the missile silo. He glanced back and saw that Zephram Cockeran was dancing again in the bar and the thought of him wandering off made Will tense. "Come on, we've got to get you back."

"Yes," she mumbled. "My bed sounds very good."

"Yeah, well, you're bed is going to have to wait for a bit," he said crossly.

"Where are we going?" she asked, beginning to pull away from him, but Will held onto her a little tighter.

"Just stay with me," he said urging her on. "It'll all come back in a bit."

"Zephram Cockeran…" she mumbled.

"Yep."

Deanna gasped. "He pinched my ass!" she yelled angrily, as if it had just occurred to her to be mad about it. She stopped even trying to move her feet.

Will turned to face her, still holding her close to him. "Dea, I'm really sorry about that, but I've got a few bigger problems on my plate right now…"

"What plate?" she asked vaguely. "I'm hungry," she sighed, as if it were a completely unrelated thought.

Will shook her back to the problem at hand. "Deanna!" he called, then dropped his voice to a harsh whisper. "The Borg… the Phoenix… we've lost communication with the Enterprise! Come on! I need you to get it together for me… right now!"

For a moment, she held it together. "Right," she agreed.

"Okay, we're going back to the silo," he told her.

But just as fast as she focused, she was gone again, muttering to herself."… Mother said I needed to loosen up…"

"I don't think she meant this loose," he answered her, urging her on.

"Needed a little pinch in the ass. My mother said that to me!" she called indignantly.

"Well, now you've had it pinched by a legend. Congratulations."

"Yeah, I should go home with him. She'd love that. She thinks I'm lonely. Lonely!"

Will kept dragging her along the path back to the silo as she muttered.

"Did you see him? Worf?" she asked, her voice sounding sad. "He looked good, right?"

Will sighed heavily. "Let's not go there, okay?"

"I mean, happy…" she whined. "Not that he ever looks happy. Happy… for a Klingon… right? I should have pinched his ass…"

Will tried to tune out her babbling as they walked on.

"Commander!" he saw someone coming towards them and they called out to him. He gave them a wave and they ran the last bit of distance in the dark.

Will looked at Deanna leaning on his arm, still mumbling something about Worf. "For the love of God, Deanna, don't talk for a minute."

She looked back at him sharply, insulted.

"You work with these people! And you are SO drunk!" he tried to explain. He pulled her over to the edge of a building along the path.

"Commander," one of the Lieutenants on the engineering detail said, greeting them. He took one look at the counselor on his arm. "What happened to Counselor Troi?"

"She's fine," he answered, letting go of her, to stand on her own, but he saw her sinking down the corner of the building, and grabbed her back up. "She hit her head," he admitted.

"Does she need medical attention? Should I help you?"

"I've got it under control," Will told him. "Dr. Crusher left med kits in the silo. What's going on?"

"Commander LaForge sent me to find you. There's a problem with a warp coil, and the Enterprise still isn't responding."

Will glanced back to where he could still hear the music pouring from the bar. They needed Dr. Cockeran's help. _Damn it._ "Okay. Okay. Lieutenant, I need you to go over to that bar and keep an eye on the guy flapping his arms like a chicken. If he leaves, follow him. Don't talk to him. Don't drink anything. Just don't let him out of your sight. I'll be back as soon as I can."

He looked back at the Lieutenant staring at him blankly.

"What?" he asked.

"It's just… I've never actually seen a chicken, Sir."

Will groaned. He propped Deanna against the building and dragged the lieutenant with him until they could see Zephram Cockeran dancing around in the bar. "That guy!" he said pointing.

"Yes, Sir," the lieutenant answered. "Who is he?"

Will sighed again. "Don't worry about it," he told him. Why dash anyone else's ideals. "Keep an eye on him."

"Will do, Sir," he said and headed off towards the bar.

Will turned and found Deana half sunk to the ground, drifting off to sleep. "Oh, no you don't," he said and reached down and hoisted her up over his shoulder.

"I'm not lonely," she moaned as her head dangled down his back. "Oh, God. I'm gonna be sick."

Will hurried over the crest of the hill to where he could see his crew moving quietly around the edge of the missile complex, and dropped Deanna down near the heavy exterior door. He watched her roll onto her side on the ground and groan. How in hell did his week deteriorate to this, he wondered.


	3. Chapter 3

"Geordi," Will called into the building. He could see him one level below him, having a serious conversation with three engineering officers. "Geordi!" he called again and when he had his friend's attention he motioned with a jerk of his head for Geordi to meet him outside.

He stepped back out and found that Deanna had gotten it together enough to get back on her feet, leaning heavily against a fence post just outside the door. If she'd vomited, he was glad he had missed it. She certainly appeared less pale. "We're gonna get you someplace to lay down for a bit…sleep it off," he told her, but she only groaned.

"Hey, Commander," Geordi greeted him as he stepped out the door. "We've got a problem. The warp coil is cracked on the inner cylinder. Without being able to get materials from the Enterprise, we're going to have to improvise with what's here and honestly, the options aren't great." He looked over and saw Deanna leaning against the post. "Whow, Counselor!"

"I'm fine," she whispered.

He turned back to Commander Riker. "What happened to her?"

"She found Zephram Cockeran."

Geordi looked back to the counselor's head, puzzled. "And he hit her?"

Will laughed out loud before he could stop himself. "No, it was a table. She's wasted," he told him casually.

"I am NOT wasted, and I'm right here. I can hear you talking. Ahh," she groaned grabbling her head. "I just… I just need a minute…"

"She's drunk?" Geordi whispered and Will nodded firmly.

"It's a primitive culture!" she bellowed again.

"Do I want to know?" Geordi asked.

Will shook his head. "No. Not really. Hey, Geordi, I need a place for her to sleep it off. Preferably without the entire away team seeing her?"

"You think?" Geordi asked as Deana began to mutter again about blending in.

"…wanted me to stand out, but not too much. You have to conform, but be noticed. It's nonsense. It's garbage, that's what it is. And then she tells me I'm lonely. Who the hell does she think she is?"

Geordi looked back at Will confused. "Who's she talking about?"

"Her mother, I think."

"Wow," Geordi whispered. He thought for a moment. "There's a room at the base of the stairs. It's a storeroom or something. But it's basically just got a desk in there, and no one else should be in there and it's been cleared by the radiation detectors. It wont be comfortable."

"She'll live. Do we have any blankets?"

"Yeah, there are some with the med kits."

"Perfect," Will sighed with a bit of relief.

"Give me a minute. I'll clear the stairway and come out and let you know you're clear to get her down there," said looking at Deanna with a slight smirk.

"Thank you Geordi," Will told him sincerely.

"No problem, Commander."

Then Deanna tried to step towards him, but almost tripped. Geordi caught her in a heap in his arms. "Whoa there," he said steadying her back against the fence. "You okay?"

Deanna looked up at him and smiled. "You're nice, Geordi," she said patting his chest. "You're just _so nice!_ You're a nice guy, and I just think you're… you're nice. You're such a good friend. Thank you," she slurred slightly.

Geordi steadied her again and patted her on the hand. "You're welcome," he said patronizingly, then turned to Will and mouthed, "Wow!" before turning and heading back inside.

Will leaned against the building and watched Deanna trying to stand up straight. "How you doin' there, sunshine?" he asked.

"Not like you! You're mean and you make fun of people just because they're trying to do their jobs and had a little to drink…" she said squishing her fingers together to show a tiny amount, which only made Will laugh. "What?" she asked, trying to come towards him, but ended up tripping as she had the moment before.

Will caught her in his arms and straightened her out. "Just a little, huh?"

Deanna was looking back at him, her dark eyes wide in the night. "The ground's uneven."

"Yeah."

Deanna sighed, defeated. "I like you anyway," she admitted. "You're good to me." Deanna held her hands against Will's chest and smiled. "I've missed you," she whispered. "We've been so busy."

"We're busy now, Deanna," he corrected her. Something about the way she was looking at him was starting to make him uncomfortable.

"You look good like that," she said, pulling at his jacket. "I like it on you."

Will felt that uneasy feeling growing. "Deanna," he chastised her. This was hardly the time, even for harmless flirting.

"You know when we said, about being on the same ship…"

But Will cut her off as he moved her back to the fence. "Dea, we can't do this. This is not the time to dig up the past."

Deanna reached up and ran her hand along the front of Will's hair, and he hated that he felt himself shiver. "Actually, technically, we're in the past, so wouldn't that be our future?" she asked with a coy smile.

She knew exactly what she was doing to him and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. "Come on Dea. Not right now."

"Why?" she asked softly.

"Umh… would you like the list in alphabetical or chronological order?" he asked. The truth was, when she was running her fingers through his hair like that, he couldn't think of one good reason… "You're drunk," he finally said. "Let's start with that one."

He heard the door open behind them and stepped away from her. He heard her mutter something about 'party pooper' as he turned to face Geordi, nervously.

"Okay, you got a clear shot down the stairs. Think she'll make it?"

"I've got her," Will told him.

"I'm gonna get the med kits and blankets. I'll meet you down there." Geordi held the door open and waited as Will turned back to Deanna.

"Okay," he said, grabbing her under the arms with no warning and sitting her on top of the fence. "I have one rule. Do NOT vomit on me, okay?"

Deanna only rolled her eyes.

"Hold on to me," he said, turning his back to her and hoisting her up onto his back, with her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her legs around his waist. He and Geordi exchanged a nod as Will snuck past him down the stairs.

"Geordi's nice," Deanna started up again as Will carried her down the staircase. "He's too nice. He should act less nice. Some of us like that."

"Oh, God," Will muttered as he trudged down stair by stair, wishing she's stop talking.

"Like you. You're nice, but you can be a bad boy too. That's sexy."

"Deanna!" he pleaded with her.

"Okay," she muttered. She fell silent as the descended the stairs and Will was grateful, until he felt her nails start to scrape along the base of his neck. Every scratch of her fingers made his hair stand on end and she knew it. Was she trying to kill him? Maybe he should have made two rules. Maybe he wished she'd go back to talking. He could feel her breath on his neck.

_She's drunk_, he reminded himself. _The Borg, the Phoenix, Zephram Cockeran,_ any of those should have provided a distraction. _Cold water, crew evaluations…_ he was trying to think of everything he could to take his mind off Deanna's roaming fingers.

He found the room at the base of the stairs. Just as Geordi said, it was empty except for an abandoned desk in the front corner. It was dark and warm, except for maybe the concrete floor. He sat Deanna on the top of the desk and closed the door behind them. "Okay, you're gonna sleep it off. I've got to find Cockeran and sober him up…" he kept talking to her as he reached down and pulled off her boots. "It's quiet down here and private, so you can get some sleep." He tried to keep talking, but his hands were shaking as he unbuttoned her vest, to let her sleep comfortably. "So just stay here…"

Deanna reached out and pulled him closer before brushing her lips against his lightly. Will's mind went totally blank. He should have pulled away. He should have left right then. She was way too drunk to make choices like that. She probably wouldn't even remember… He should have left, but he didn't. Her lips were warm and tasted sweet against his, as they kissed again, her hands running into his hair and her legs wrapping around him again.

The sounds of feet clanking against the metal stairs outside made Will jump away from her, just before Geordi slipped in the door carrying a med kit and two blankets.

"Okay, we've got some B complex," he said handing a hypo spray to Will and he laid a blanket on the floor.

"Yeah, here you go. This'll help," he said pressing it against Deanna's shoulder.

Geordi stood watching them for a moment, but Will seemed in no hurry to leave her. "Okay, have a good nap, Counselor and I'll uhh… I'll get back to work." He walked out and let the door swing shut behind him.

Will watched him go, feeling more than a little awkward.

"Will," Deanna whispered.

But Will was already shaking his head. "It's not a little thing, Deanna. It's first contact. I have to go."

"Will…"

He finally turned to face her. "You're drunk, Deanna. You can't make decisions…"

"What if I'm not that drunk?" she asked. "What if I'm drunk enough not to care and not so drunk that I don't know what I'm doing?" she asked, sitting on the desk, her feel dangling off the edge in a way that seemed suddenly very sexy.

"Then I think I deserve the medal instead of Cockeran," he said slowly. He leaned towards her and kissed her forehead quickly. "Lay down, Deanna. Sleep it off. I need your help. I can't do this without you." He handed her the remaining blanket and pointed to the floor. "I need your brain more than your body tonight."

"That stinks," she muttered as she hopped off the desk. "Can't you have both?"

Will watcher her flop onto the floor and pull the blanket up over herself before he turned and headed out the door. "Apparently, not tonight," he muttered to himself as he headed up the stairs. Did it really have to be this hard? He felt like strangling Zephram Cockeran with his bare hands, but he couldn't. He needed his mind too.


	4. Chapter 4

Deanna woke up with the sting of cold concrete against her cheek, and yanked her head away from the cold. The room was dark and she couldn't remember where she was or how she got there. She sat up and studied the darkness. Her boots and vest were sitting on a desk in the corner and she had a vague memory… a vague memory of Will Riker, of the feel of his beard against her cheek, of the way his mouth felt. _What the hell?_

"Uh, Zephram Cockeran," she groaned as the scene from the bar came back to her slowly, and suddenly the dull pounding in her head made sense.

_The Phoenix! First Contact!_ She thought as she jumped from the floor. How long had she been asleep? Deanna pulled her boots on and buttoned her vest and opened the door. She was at the base of the silo where the shiny Phoenix sat waiting to make history. Where was Will? What about Geordi? She headed up the stairs to the launch room.

"Hey! It's sleeping beauty!" Geordi called as she burst in. "How's the head?"

"It hurts," she said grumpily.

Geordi's eyes went wide at the show of her mood. "Well, so much for me being nice," he mumbled as he turned back to his work, and Deanna cringed, mostly because she had no idea what he was talking about and she was afraid to know the answer. She had been so tipsy. She could have done anything. The only really clear memories she had was pushing Zephran Cockeran's hand off her ass, and the smell of Will Riker's neck and the feel of his beard, and his lips. _Oh no! What have I done?_ Maybe avoiding Will was the best coarse of action for a while.

"Alright Geordi, time to wake up Rip VanWinkle," Will called as he entered the room. So much for avoidance. He saw Deanna and smiled "Hey there, Sunshine!"

"Would you PLEASE stop calling me that!" she snapped.

"We're not nice anymore," Geordi informed him.

"Hmm, maybe we liked you better soused."

Deanna buried her head in her hands and sighed. "Okay! Okay! What did I do? I did something stupid? I said something stupid? What was it? I don't remember, and I apologize in advance…"

Geordi only smiled and laughed. "You just said I was nice," he said with a shrug and stood from his work and walked out of the room.

Will Riker stood leaning against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, chuckling.

"What?" she cried. This was a nightmare.

"Well, how much do you remember?" he asked smugly.

"Zephram Cokeran pinched my ass. And I drank… a lot. And… maybe something… about…"

"About?" Will asked smirking.

"Maybe it was a dream… a nightmare…"

"Wow, thanks!"

"So, I kissed you…?"

"You don't remember?" he asked.

Deanna buried her head in her hands again. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me! First the Borg and now I have to do this? What else? How far did it go?"

Will sat silently watching her with that smirk on his face. "Oh, come on Sunshine…"

"Will!"

"Good to know that if we _did_ kiss, it was less memorable than Zepharn Cockeran's hand on your ass."

"Will…" she pleaded.

"And if we _did_ kiss, and you were _that_ drunk… it wouldn't have gone any farther than that."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart," he told her wrapping his arms around her.

She rested her head against him comfortably. "Oh, my God, my head hurts," she admitted.

"I'd think it would. You can pound 'um back!"

"Stop!"

"No way," he said laughing.

"You're going to mock me."

"Oh, yeah."

"For how long?"

"Well, considering we're in the past… quite a ways into the future," he said laughing. "Come on, Sunshine. Let's go meet your lover boy. It's time to wake him up and break the news. He may need a little something to hold onto," he teased, patting her on her back before heading out of the room.

"Oh, yeah. You're charming!" she called after him.

"That's what I'm told," he called as she followed along behind him.

He held the door of the silo open for her as he headed out. Geordi was waiting for them in the darkness. "How much longer do we have?" she asked Will as she passed.

"16 hours," he answered simply.

"Can we make it?"

"Yep."

"And we kissed, didn't we?"

"Yep."

Deanna stopped and sighed heavily. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Will said, shrugging her off. "We've got bigger things to worry about." He started off to the cabin where he had left Zephran Cockeran to sleep off his hang over. "Just remind me if we get through this… I'm buying you a bottle of Tequila."


End file.
